A Love Long Forgotten
by BlueRain1
Summary: *Chap 2 up!*Hermione was once in love with Harry, but she forced herself to forget about him when he became distant. Now that she has the chance again, what will she do about it? H/Hr R
1. Old feelings, new beginnings

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. It has dialogues from Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones, and other programs. 

**Summary:** Hermione was once in love with Harry, but she forced herself to forget about him when he became distant. Now that she has the chance to bring his mind back from where he hid it, what will she do about the love she once felt and that is threatening to come back? R&R 

**Author's Note:** Forgive the grammar spelling, if any, I still need a beta. If you are interested please say so in your review.
    
    _Those wounds have been revealed_
    
    _Clawing through this wasteland_
    
    _No emotion lives, suffocate on hope_
    
    _Swallow your last rational thought_
    
    _It tastes of every heart you've devoured_
    
    _Your veins constrict they are choking you_
    
    _Wrapped in vanity, you're dying. –Bloodsacked Memories ~Hatebreed_

**A Love Long Forgotten**

Chapter One

Old feelings, new beginnings

****

They sat in front of the fire, three best friends. Two boys and a girl; the latter was sitting between them. 

They were enjoying the warmth of the fire, it was a cold night. All of a sudden one of the boys stood up; a redhead, freckled-faced, blue-eyed, tall seventeen year old.

"I'm off to bed," he said "Are you coming Harry?" he added, stifling a yawn.

Harry shook his head, his black untidy hair sticking out everywhere, "I'm not tired, Ron."

"Fine," said Ron, he turned to the brown-haired girl instead, "Hermione, I could walk you to your dormitory door? It's on the way after all," he said and shrugged.

"No, thanks, Ron," she replied "I'm not tired, either, Good Night."

"Good Night, then," Ron said and nodded to them. They bid him goodnight and he rushed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Hermione looked around the empty common room, and then at her watch, it was a quarter to one o' clock in the morning. She looked around at Harry, he was gazing at the fire, a lost _expression in his deep, green eyes; they looked very dark, almost black against the firelight.

Harry had been very quiet ever since their fourth year. And even after he'd defeated Voldermort in their sixth year, he still didn't speak openly about it.

And she could see it was eating him inside, she could only go so much as imagine what he had gone through, what he had seen, what he had felt. She knew it was hard, she'd seen it in his eyes. They were no longer bright green, as they had been the first four years she'd knew him, but two shades darker. But they had changed after Voldermort's rebirth, and they never changed back after Harry defeated him. She could see all the guilt building up inside him, all the shame, all the pain, the sorrow. It made him look older than he really was.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, thinking this was just a good time as any to bring up the so dreaded subject they had avoided for so long. "Harry," she said, he didn't react. "Harry, you need to get it all off your chest. It's not healthy for you—for anyone—to keep everything locked up like you have."

She watched as he slowly turned his head to look at her, she withdrew her hand from his shoulder and placed it at her lap as she looked at him. He let out a long sigh. "Sometimes it's better to not talk about it."

"But Harry," said Hermione and gulped slightly at his stare. "Please, tell me what happened. I want to be able to understand. I want to… know."

"You would never understand—" he started but she groaned and broke him off.

"Try me."

He rubbed his forehead with his hands and sighed. "Everything was my fault." He bit his lip and looked up at her, she blinked. "Every single, bloody thing. It was because I made Cedric take the Cup with me that Voldermort killed him." Hermione flinched at the name a bit. "It was my blood that made the bastard come back, you know it. And it only caused more death and destruction." He stared at the fire again and clenched his fists. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again. "He showed me my parents… he—he brought them back…"

"But no spell can—"

"It wasn't a spell," he said "I don't know what the hell he did, but he brought them back. He told me that they would be with me again, that I would have parents again, and that I wouldn't be an orphan anymore. And all I had to do was join him. But my mother… she was shaking her head, it was the oddest thing. Anyway, I stood up to Voldermort, said to him that I would never join him… and he took them away again.

"It was worse than the first time, Hermione. This time, I remember… I remember mum's words saying that she loved me that she was always there with me, dad's voice telling me the same." His eyes began to water, and he looked as if he was using all the strength he could muster to not cry. When he spoke again, his voice trembled helplessly. "It was horrible to watch, and it was at my parents' expense again that I beat Voldermort to where he belonged to."

He put his forehead in his hands. Hermione stood up from the couch and kneeled in front of him. "You've grown up, Harry." He raised his gaze to hers, looking directly into her brown eyes.

"You've just noticed that?" he asked with a smile, it was the first sincere smile in three years. He looked considerably younger.

She smiled slightly. "No, it's not that, you prat," she said "It's—"

"So now I'm being insulted, well this is just peachy," he said in mock hurting. She laughed and swatted his arms playfully. She then frowned.

"Harry… it's just that I've never taken the time to notice it really," she said standing up, her back to the fire.

"I know," he replied "But I just want to get this all over with." He let out a long sigh. "It's too hard."

"Don't try to grow up too fast," she said

"Oh, but I'm already grown up, you said so yourself." He stood up and walked over to her. "Aren't I?"

But she found no words to say, his gaze was intensely penetrating her brown one. And she found herself unable to react to him. But finally, with all the willpower she had, she could find her voice and speak. "Don't look at me like that," she said, and it was the only thing she could say.

"Why not?" he asked, staring at her eyes almost defiantly, as if trying to prove himself, and she could feel his breath on her face.

"It makes me uncomfortable," she replied breathlessly. He grinned, but it wasn't his usual grin, the grin she used to see on his face. No, this time it was more like a smirk.

"Sorry, my darling," he said as she turned around from him, she now fixed her gaze at the fire.

There was a long silence following these words where Hermione gazed at the ember flames that licked the fireplace, at the same time feeling Harry's emeralds of eyes staring at her. Still, after she'd told him not to.

But it was that stare, moments ago—nay, seems like centuries ago—when their eyes had locked, that had puzzled her, sent her mind into a place beyond reason, and her heart to a state of hypnosis, such strongly, that it seemed to not beat until Harry blinked, which he did once or twice while staring at her, giving her the all-too-known feeling that she was falling through a bottomless pit.

And the feelings which she had tried to hide and bury deep within her soul were once again released into her mind and into her heart. All of it, just in a brief moment when their eyes had met. And she had been afraid, afraid of being, again, haunted by the memory of him and of being forced, perhaps once again, to hide those feelings and to pretend they never would exist, or even still, that they never _did exist. She could not bring herself to do that again, it had been too painful._

She had tried of course, by shutting them inside her head, in a place nobody but her knew. And it was even more painful to try and forget, because her love for him grew even in that profound place, aiding itself, loving in silence. Though, she was careful not to notice—or being noticed, for that fact—they were always there. When she felt a pang in her stomach by looking at him pass, when she felt a throb in her chest every time he brushed her while passing by, or walking next to her; they were always there, painfully—regretfully—reminding her of that forbidden love that she herself had forbid.

And it had been two years ago when she had tried to forget about her love for him. But in seconds she had quickly regretted it; seconds turning into hours, hours into days, days into months, and months… into years. And so, two years passed with only the bitter taste of sour regret upon her soul; angry at herself for allowing it to happen. Now she was in her seventh and last year, returning from her memories and dropping back with a loud blow, into reality. 

And before he even noticed her change of reaction, she had bid him goodnight and had hurried away to the Head Girl's dormitory to sleep, on a busy mind, an endless sea of questions that needed to be answered. Though not now… definitely not now.

**Author's Note:** Okay, this is just the teaser chapter. If I get a good response I'll continue the story. Anyway, please review!

~Blue


	2. Of Dreams and Showers

**Author's Note: Thanks for the wonderful reviews. And a big glomp and thanks to my beta-reader **Bingblot****** who has wonderfully provided the title for this chapter and helped me fix a couple of things. **

Chapter Two

~Of Dreams and Showers~

Harry watched her run up the stairs; he then sat on the couch, watching the last of the flames of the fire die down. He sighed; he _had needed to say that to someone, to finally get everything out of his chest. It was a tiring thing to live with the guilt inside of him. Now that it was all out in the open, he felt much better. He stood up and stretched, his mind filled with many thoughts racing at light speed. Thoughts about Hermione. What had possessed him lately? He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Somewhere along the years, he had fallen in love with her; he had woken up, seen her and that was all he needed. Now, not a day went by without him thinking the dreaded _What___ ifs. _

He never had told her, he had dropped subtle hints, but either she didn't notice, or she didn't want to notice. Most other people hadn't really noticed either; he did stare at her a lot, but sometimes those stares were mistaken as mental lapses. But it had been her own fault; she was the one who had kissed him on the cheek, making him consider his feelings for her. 

At first, he hadn't told her because he didn't think that Voldermort needed another person to hurt in order to get to him, Harry.

But even after Voldermort was gone, he didn't tell her. Why hadn't he? He didn't know. Oh well, nothing to do but wait. A thousand years maybe, but still, only wait.

* * *

_Wake up_

Leave me alone, she thought to herself and muttered this out loud. She was dreaming, the most wonderful dream too. She was sitting under a tree in some kind of forest; she could hear the sound of a waterfall in the otherwise silent surroundings. She was reading peacefully, her mind completely relaxed. She was wearing her long brown hair on a plait and she wore nothing but a long sheet so as not to get hypothermia.

_Wake up! _

She groaned and looked up from her book, closing it and standing up gracefully. Her long hair fell down towards her bottom and she turned around to see a blurry figure beckoning to her. She squinted, trying to see who it was, but everything was going dark. She couldn't focus on anything anymore. She saw a flash of green and everything came into focus again, but she was not on the forest anymore. She was in her bedroom in the Gryffindor Tower.

"Hermione, wake up!" It was Harry, he was shaking her shoulders. His round glasses were sliding off the bridge of his nose.

"Let me sleep," she muttered drowsily and rolled over, but he grabbed her shoulders and shook her more. "What is it?!" she whined.

"Everyone's gone off to Hogsmeade already. I told Ron we'd catch up to him; he went off with Parvati Patil." He sat down on her bed as she sat up against the headboard. 

She stretched her arms and looked at him. But he wasn't looking at her face. She looked down at herself, then rolled her eyes and grasped the sheet, wrapping it around her chest. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry, look up at my face."

"Never seen you wear so little fabric," He shrugged and grinned at her. She hit him playfully on the arm.

"Oh stop. It's just a shirt. If I was naked, I wouldn't want to even know how you would react. Besides, I'm your best friend; you should be ready to see me at my worst," she said rubbing her eyes and letting the sheet fall down. She was wearing a two-piece set of pajamas. The top was blue with yellow moons and stars and it had spaghetti straps and a low neckline; the bottom consisted of long pajama pants with the same colors and designs. "Hand me my robe." She pointed at the blue robe that was perched on the foot of her bed.

Harry reached for it and threw it to her and waited until she wrapped it around herself and got out of her bed, barefoot. She then made her way to the bathroom, leaving the door open as she brushed her teeth. "So why did you 'ave to wake me up?" she asked through a mouthful of toothpaste. She spit it out and washed her mouth with water.

"I told you, everyone's at Hogsmeade," came his voice from the bedroom. 

"Oh, right," she replied as she stood now in the doorframe of the bathroom. "Didn't it cross your mind that if I was still asleep it meant that I didn't want to go?"

"Er… why not?" he asked, puzzled. She sighed and stretched again, yawning slightly.

"I was having the best dream I've had in ages," she replied and crossed her arms, still upset that she didn't get to finish her dream.

"Well," he said and grinned innocently, "I promise that the next time you dream about me, I won't wake you up."

She scoffed and laughed teasingly, eyeing him. "If I had a dream about you, Harry Potter, it certainly wouldn't be my best dream. One of the very worst, actually." _Liar_! Her mind shouted at once._ Shush_, she thought to herself. This, however, didn't wipe the grin off of his face; instead he stood up and walked over to her, still grinning. She gulped and took a step back.

Of course dreaming about him wouldn't be her worst dream, it would be the very best. If only he knew what he did to her in her dreams. 

_No, don't come closer, she thought frantically, taking several steps back inside the bathroom as he kept walking towards her. She couldn't think straight with him within three feet from her, she got inside the shower and he snickered and stepped in with her._

"Where are you going to go now?" he asked, still snickering.

"W—what are you doing?" she stammered. He got really serious for a moment and looked down at her, a tinge of crimson appeared on his cheeks. He blinked a couple of times and his own thoughts drifted back to his mind momentarily. It seemed that he had forgotten all about his feelings for her because they felt so natural when he was around her. When he was alone, he could torture himself by just the mere thought of her. But when he was with her, he could act so natural, that he sometimes wondered how on earth he could be such a good actor. Or maybe he wasn't and she only pretended to not notice. 

And now, he considered the situation he was in. He looked at her again, and it seemed to dawn on him that she was wearing only her robe over her pajamas, and that they were inside of the shower… together. Alone. He could feel the heat rising in his face. However, he decided to throw all this aside and concentrate steadily in another thought, one that didn't include the hundreds of ways that this situation could turn out as. 

"Are you afraid?" he asked and grinned charmingly at her. She smiled.

"Yes," she said mockingly and smiled up at him. 

"You should be," he said and started tickling her and she squirmed with laughter and tried to tell him to stop in between hysterics. "What?" he asked, as if he was deaf, while she tried to get his hands off her sides. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you!"

"Stop… please… stop…" she managed to blurt out, laughing still. He tickled her harder and she squealed. She fumbled with her hands behind her; her sides already ached from laughing so much. She found the tap for the cold water and turned it on, making him gasp and stop tickling her.

"Turn it off! Cold!" he said as the water soaked him and he put his hands over his head to try to stop it, Hermione grinned and stepped out of the shower, leaving the water on as she too dripped with water. He got out after her and shivered, his teeth shaking. "It's winter!" he protested, shivering.

"Aw," she said, though she was shivering too. "The baby's cold?" 

"You'll pay for that one," he said as he ran towards her. She ran out of the bathroom and into her dormitory. The five beds were already made; she guessed a house elf had come and arranged them. She ran to her bed and stood there, panting. Harry caught up to her and grabbed her pillow and started hitting her with it. She gasped and grabbed Parvati's pillow, as they both giggled and laughed, hitting each other.

Half an hour later, they were both on her bed, panting after the pillow fight, lying beside one another. Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. He smiled back at her. "I think we both just regressed to being eleven," she pointed out, sitting up and her breath steadying; he sat next to her and nodded.

"Good times, good times," he said sighing. "I just sounded like an old man, didn't I?" Hermione nodded and sniggered. Harry pinched her cheeks. "Yes," he said teasingly "Nice little girl."

"Oh, stop it," she said standing up and arranging her bed. 

"Leave that," said Harry. "The house-elves will do that for you. That's what they're here for." 

Hermione turned her gaze upon him, sternly. 

"You still with the whole _spew_ thing?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes, and it's not _spew_, Harry—"

"I know, I know, it's S.P.E.W." he said. She looked up at him, he remembered. Oh, come on! Harry isn't _Neville,_ he doesn't forget things that easily, she thought. She needed to give him a bit more credit. 

"Get dressed," he said, "We can catch up to Ron and Parvati in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, okay," she said "Now get out while I take a shower and dress."

"Didn't you have a shower already?"

"Funny," she said shooing him out the door and closing it behind her, laughing slightly.


End file.
